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emberfrostlovesloki · 1 year ago

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Teacher's Pet [Aaron x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@littlecarmine) Center (@penandpaper-love) Right (@f4iryesss)

Prompt: When the reader, Jack’s teacher gets injured during the school day keeping her students safe, Aaron goes to check on her that evening. The unlikely pair get closer, but it's up to both of them if they want to make whatever they have more.

Pairing: Aaron x Non-BAU!reader, teacher!reader, ally!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 12K

Content Warnings: Homophobic phrases [from anti-LGBTQ+ protesters (the bad guys)], brief mention of religion, mention of being hit in the face and body and a split lip (reader) distress, mention of food and drinking alcohol, mention of an accident [not specified what (reader)], Haley’s death is brought up. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! This fic is for amazing @imagining-in-the-margins's Pride writing challenge! I made up my own prompt for this one which is: The reader puts herself in danger to keep her students away from anti-LBGTQ+ protesters. Aaron finds out about this and makes sure she’s fine (aka protective Hotch.) I hope you like this more fluffy and cute style of fic. It’s a bit different from the angst I write. It takes me back to my early Aaron writing style! I want to note that I know that not all school districts deal with this kind of stuff, but as I live in the South, and my sister and I are both in Education, I get to hear about this kind of thing more often than I’d like. Anyhow, please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

y/n = your name

y/l/n = your last name

a/r = age range

a/d/r = any dietary restrictions (if none, please ignore)

Aaron got the call from the school shortly after he’d finished an early lunch. He was seated at his desk, the soft glow of the lap lighting his space which was covered by the team’s files. He was going to do the boring parts of the files for them, as he always did, but his phone ringing had disrupted his workflow. He glanced at the caller ID and quickly picked up, saying, “This is Mr. Hotchner.” There was a brief pause before the woman on the phone said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Hotchner. This is Rachel Jenkins, the school receptionist.” Hotch nodded his head; he knew the woman well, as he had gone to the school multiple times this year already because Jack had gotten into some kind of trouble, or needed him. Rachel continued, stating “Sorry to disturb you during the work day, but there’s been an incident with Jack, and the nurse thinks it’s best that you come and pick him up as soon as possible.” Aaron stifled a sigh. He wasn’t angry at Jack. He didn’t blame him for acting out, a trait that had started once his son had started processing his mother’s death. The family counselor said that was a natural part of grieving for a child, and Aaron was sympathetic to his son’s pain and emotions. Sometimes he wanted to scream or lash out too, but he had more faculty over his emotions. Even with all that being said, Hotch did find it a bit troublesome that Jack got into scuffles on days that would have been easy for him. But that was neither here nor there, life, nor emotions waited for anyone’s schedule -- Aaron knew this like all parents did.

Hotch asked a follow-up question: “Was this Jack dealing with bullies, or was this him doing something he shouldn’t be?” Aaron liked to know these things heading into the Principal or Nurse’s office beforehand, so he could set his tone appropriately. There was a pause on the line which made Hotch nervous. The silence was broken as Jessica replied, “No, Mr. Hotchner, it’s not that. I… I think it’s best that you just come down to the school.” This response made Aaron even more tense.

What could have happened that the woman would hesitate like that? He sensed that an answer had been on the tip of her tongue, and she’d stopped herself from speaking because she thought it was better. Hotch furrowed his brows, got out of his chair quickly, and grabbed his suit jacket. He flipped the screen of his laptop down, then grabbed his shoulder bag from the couch. No matter what Jack might have gotten up to, not knowing if something bad had happened to his son, nothing would stop him from getting to Jack.

Hotch hurriedly locked his office door behind him and as he started striding toward the stairs that would get him to the elevators, Rossi exited his office and offered a quizzical look at his friend. It was unlike Aaron to flee the office, even on days that felt like they were drawing on for an eternity. Hotch beat Dave to the question forming on his lips, someone would need to know where he was in case something serious came up in his absence. “Jack had some trouble at school and they said I should head over there.” Rossi frowned and said, “The bullies again? Remember my offer of teaching Jack how to punch is still on the table.” The worried look on Aaron’s face prevented Dave from joking further. Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “I don’t think so, I hope to be back in a half hour or so. Look after the team while I’m gone, please?”

Rossi nodded his head in understanding and watched as Aaron took the stairs quickly down to the bullpen and out of sight. Dave closed his eyes for a second. He knew things had been hard for Aaron and Jack after Haley. There was no avoiding the hurt that lingered like a shroud around the two of them. He knew that Hotch had done his best to help and support Jack, but that didn’t make Aaron’s pain any less. If anything it made it worse because the guilt still haunted Aaron like a spector. Jack’s anger had grown and manifested at anything that it could get its teeth into, and often its victim was Aaron, who was trying his best. Dave bowed his head and saw the grief with Aaron. Rossi knew grief, it had been his companion for many years. And it hurt to see it on Hotch, but there was little he could do but support Aaron to the best of his ability and let time do its healing. And healing was a slow seamstress. Dave looked over the bullpen at the team working and smiling and turned back to his office, he felt like he needed a drink, but for now, bitter coffee would have to do.

Aaron drove at a speed that was technically street-legal. The churning of his stomach and the constant red lights had him worried and agitated at the same time. Jack’s school wasn’t too far away, but he’d hit the lunch-hour traffic which made the drive at least twenty-five minutes long. Hotch jacked up the air conditioner to silence his stressed-out thoughts. If something very bad had happened, then he would have been told. And there was nothing on the news, no lockdowns, or active shooter drills. However, sending Jack off to school every morning knowing that that was a possibility didn’t make him feel good.

It was the fear of the unknown that made Aaron press his foot down on the accelerator further. Hotch arrived at the school and everything looked normal from the outside. With hurried footsteps, he made it to the front office to check in. Jessica could see how nervous he was and the intensity of his expression. Aaron’s eyes, when they were dark and worried, had opened many doors for him, and broken many unsubs in the interrogation room. The receptionist swallowed and said, “Just grab a visitor badge and you can head to the nurse’s office, Mr. Hotchner. I’ll sign you in. The Vice Principal is already there.”

Aaron grabbed one of the laminated passes and said, “Thank you,” as he headed out of the glass office and toward the nurse’s office which was located at the end of the central hall adjacent to the janitor’s closet. Knowing the Vice-Principal was present with Jack told Aaron more information, but not enough to know exactly what had happened. If he found out that his son was being bullied again, he was going to send some strongly worded emails to those boy’s parent’s this evening. As he was drafting the letters in this mind, he made it to the nurse and opened the door. As soon as he saw Jack’s tear-stained face, and that he was clutching a Kleenex in his hands, Hotch stepped further in the door and the nurse and Vice Principal moved aside and let him go to his son. Aaron knelt next to the bed that Jack was sitting on and embraced him firmly. Jack let out some sniffles and Aaron reassured him before asking for any information, “It’s okay, Jack. It’s okay.”

After a few moments, Hotch attempted to move away, but Jack’s hands gripped the fabric of his shirt. Aaron moved his right hand from Jack’s soft hair that reminded him of Haley to under Jack’s legs as he stood. Unamused at how he’d been kept waiting, Aaron asked in a cool tone, “Would you tell me what’s going on, Vice Principal Westbrook?” The silence that stayed in the room as the Vice Principal picked at the hangnails on his fingers and looked at the floor had Aaron hot under the collar. Jack didn’t look bruised or hurt in any way, just very upset. Upset enough that he had wanted him. Before Dr. Westbrook could come up with a scripted answer, Jack said, “They hurt her, Dad.” Aaron frowned, pulled Jack back from his chest a bit, and asked, “Hurt who, bud?” Jack sniffled and replied, “Ms. y/l/n. He punched her in the face and her shoulder.” The words tumbled out of the boy's mouth and only had Aaron more concerned. Jack was crying again, and Aaron handed him back his crumpled tissue and pressed Jack to his broad chest again. Jack set his head on his dad’s shoulder and took comfort in the solid presence and scent that was always there for him when he needed it.

Jack had done a lot of growing up in his short years. He’d discovered a few things about life that he wished he hadn’t. How people you loved sometimes went away, maybe just for a bit, or sometimes forever, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still there loving him. His dad was a prime example of this -- and even if Jack couldn’t articulate this, or might change his mind later, it was still true in the moment. As his little fingers clutched at Aaron’s shirt collar, Hotch turned to face Dr. Westbrook again.

The slim man seemed to be trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with Aaron, and giving a straight answer to anything, but Hotch wouldn’t let him get away with this. Ms. y/l/n was someone who had become very special to Jack this year when he got into her class. Aaron also had a kind of parasocial relationship with y/n, as she had been very helpful with Jack and dealing with his grief and the bullying he’d been dealing with that year. Jack had brought her up early in the year and when Aaron had met with Ms. y/l/n for the Meet-The-Teacher night, Hotch could tell why. She was so bright. Her presence illuminated her cozy room which she had decorated with bright posters and lights. It seemed even the sharp corners of the room were softened by y/n’s presence. She had given Jack such praise for his manners, his reading skills, and how he treated his classmates with kindness. Aaron had almost felt like a lost that night, as he could only listen and nod. He had to really pay attention when some of the other parents started asking questions. Apart from the fact that y/n was clearly an adept teacher and classroom manager for her age, she was also pretty. Pretty in a quaint way. He’d left the school that night feeling oddly lighter than he had in months.

The next time they met was at the first parent-teacher conference. That was where Aaron had learned that Jack was dealing with bullies. The administration hadn’t even informed him of this issue. y/n was very kind about it and wanted to make sure that Aaron had the right support for something like this. y/n hadn’t meant to question his parenting skills, but as a single dad, she wanted to get a better feel of how emotions were handled around the Hotchner household. Not just sad feelings, but anger and resentment too. It wasn’t until a month later when the bullying had gotten really bad, that Aaron realized, thanks to y/n, that he wasn’t equipped to handle this alone and had brought in the help of a family counselor. He had more contact with y/n after that, as she checked up on Jack and kept Aaron informed about his son’s grades and other issues that popped up in the classroom.

Hotch could understand why Jack would be upset that y/n had been hurt somehow. He was also angry, and asked in a firm voice, “What happened to Ms. y/l/n?” The VP sighed and said, “Well it was just an unfortunate situation, Mr. Hotchner, but no one was seriously hurt and we’re launching an investigation into the situation that happened.” This evasive answer didn’t satisfy Aaron and he replied, “Great, but what happened to Ms. y/l/n, and why is my son so distraught about it? What happened?”

Dr. Westbrook realized that he couldn’t talk his way out of not answering Aaron as he had with the other parents he’d had to have had this conversation with. The man relented and said, “Well this morning a group of Anti-LGBTQ+ protesters amassed at the front of the school and held up degrading signs and shouted at anyone coming into the building through the front entrance.” Hotch already didn’t like where this was headed. The political climate had many up in arms due to the acceptance of others, and they made it their goal to try and complain and intimidate those who didn’t agree with them and their views. The VP continued, “Well they were blocking the flow of traffic and harassing the faculty, so we had some city police move them off campus. Unfortunately, they set up on DeGhatty Street on the sidewalk by the area for recess.” Hotch nodded, getting a better picture of what had happened. But there were still missing pieces. The next bit Dr. Westbrook rushed through, but Aaron caught the story even if the VP was trying to make it hard to. “Well it was the second shift of recess, the time that Jack has, and the protesters became more agitated. They weren’t getting the engagement they wanted, and they started yelling at the kids. Ms. y/l/n was on recess shift and tried calling the school’s two SROs, but they were dealing with an incident in the cafeteria. The screaming was distressing to some of the students and one student started moving toward the group by the fence…”

Hotch stopped the man and asked, “Was it Jack?” The Vice Principal nodded his head no and replied, “No Mr. Hotchner. It was another student, but other monitors and students did say that your son was watching from a pretty close distance.” Hotch narrowed his eyes but didn’t detect that the man was lying. Dr. Westbrook swallowed thickly under Aaron’s gaze and shaky continued, “Well Ms. y/l/n saw the student moving toward the protesters, and she moved forward to cut the student off. The group was unhappy about that, and they accosted her and made some false statements and allegations about her. She did her best to verbally defend herself and move back to protect the students and get them all inside, but one of the men in the group, allegedly, grabbed her shoulder, screamed at her, and then lost his composure and hit Ms. y/l/n in the face and chest.”

The image that the man was painting made Aaron feel his anger flash up in him. Not only was the VP using protective language for the protesters, he, nor the school had done a proper job of protecting their students or teachers. No wonder Jack was distraught. Thinking of Jack, his son had settled and Aaron knew they would have to leave in a bit. This was still a school and there were other things that had to be done, but Aaron asked, “Are the protestors gone now? I drove down DeGhatty to get here, and I didn’t see anyone. Also, how is Ms. y/n? Is she alright?”

Dr. Westbrook nodded and seemed relieved that the conversation had turned away from the events of that afternoon. He cleared his throat and straightened his blue striped tie which didn’t match his grey suit before replying, “The local police came down and dispersed the crowd and told them they didn’t have a right to protest on the school’s block without a permit, which is true. As for Ms. y/l/n, Nurse Patty here looked her over and we decided it was for the best to send her home for the day. Ms. y/l/n seemed shaken up.” Aaron refrained from letting out a long sigh. Now was not the time nor the place. But the feelings and questions that flooded Aaron were that he wondered why the police hadn’t been called earlier, why the school didn’t seem up on its legal code, and the utter condescension that came with having to send y/n home for the rest of the day. What did the Vice Principal expect from her after being punched in the face? y/n had “appeared shaken up?” How the hell would he have reacted in that circumstance?

Aaron didn’t want any of this frustration at this situation to make Jack feel like he was angry at him, but he would have a conversation with his son later about when to step back in a situation. But he’d worry about that later. For now, Hotch said, “Okay. Thank you for explaining. May I take Jack home now?” Dr. Westbrook seemed to deflate and nodded his head yes. The nurse moved over to Jack and gave him a pat on the head and handed him a lollipop. The older woman said, “Have a good rest of your day, Jack. If you’re at school tomorrow and you feel bad at any time in the day you can come and see me, okay?” Jack nodded softly and Aaron shot her a thankful smile before tightening his grip on his son and moving out of the door and back toward the front office. Hotch quickly signed out with Jessica and returned his visitor badge to the counter.

Once he was back out into the warm, almost, summer sun, Aaron dipped his head down to Jack's ear and said softly, “Hey, Buddy. Would you be okay with hanging you with Dad’s friends for a while while I work in the office? You could camp up with me or you could see Uncle Spencer, Uncle Morgan, or Aunt Penelope?” The prospect of seeing his friends had Jack perk up and his distress diminish as he said, “Hm-hm. I wanna see Aunt Penny and Uncle Derek.” Hotch smiled and replied, “Okay. We’ll just be there for a few hours and then, if you’re good, we can go to ice cream after Daddy’s done with work.” That last piece of information really made Jack happy, and Aaron relaxed for the first time since the school had called him. It didn’t take long for Aaron to get Jack strapped into his car seat and head back to the Quantico Field Office.

Hotch spent the rest of the afternoon working and looking after Jack; mostly making sure Jack wasn’t getting into too much trouble with the team. Derek showed Jack around the bullpen, and Spencer did some physics magic which the whole BAU oohed and ahhed at, even Aaron and Rossi, from a distance. Then Penelope took Jack into her office and they spent around an hour together laughing and talking. There was something about Garcia’s energy that matched Jack’s so well, and his easily distracted self could be entertained for hours. Hotch made sure to set up a fancy coffee delivery for tomorrow morning for the team out of his pocket. He knew all of their orders by heart now. He did this as a thank you to the team. Not that any one of them would complain about having Jack distract them, however, being a babysitter was very much not in their job description, especially when they were in the office, so wanted to make sure they knew how appreciative he was of their support. Each one of them had been there for him and Jack on numerous occasions when Hotch thought that he couldn’t go on. He realized how lucky he was to be surrounded by this support system. Jack had them too, and also his friends and teachers at school. Ms. y/n came to mind as he finished scheduling the coffee order. The thought of someone laying hands on her gave him a constricting feeling in his chest.

Aaron let out a breath and looked outside his windows into the bullpen where he watched Prentiss, Morgan, and JJ kneeling next to Jack who was speaking animatedly about what looked like soccer practice. Hotch moved his eyes back to his laptop screen and pulled up his personal email. With a few clicks of his fingers, he had gmail pulled up. He hit ‘new message.’ He typed in y/n’s email into the ‘to’ box. It felt so strange to be the one initiating a conversation, especially a new one, but he cared about Ms. y/n, and he knew his nerves wouldn’t settle down until he’d checked in on her.

y/n was the one to normally start a conversation either to check up on Jack or let Hotch or Mr. Hotchner, as she called him, what had happened with Jack at school. Aaron had only once emailed y/n for details about Jack’s day when he’d come home upset about something that he couldn’t quite decipher. She responded promptly and told him everything she knew about the situation. Essentially they had only emailed in a professional capacity before, and this felt different. For a moment Aaron wondered if anyone else had called or messaged her. If her friends from school or elsewhere were getting a story about the wild day she’d had, or how she was hurting. The thought made Hotch’s heart clench for some unknown reason. He typed out this message:

To: y/n.y/l/n@_____ISD

From: [email protected]

Subject: Checking-In

Good afternoon, Ms. y/n,

I heard from Jack and the school today that you were hurt today while trying to keep your students safe. I wanted to thank you for putting yourself in that position for the sake of the students, especially Jack. He is very worried about you and keeps asking if you’re okay. He and I both share that sentiment. I hope the school fully supports you in what you need at this time. If there is anything I can do to make your life easier these next few days, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I would be happy to drop off food or just be a support if you need it. Wishing you the best,

Aaron Hotchner

Hotch hit the send button and listened to the little swoosh of the sent sound. Although he did feel better after sending the email, it was also odd. He didn’t want to come off as a parental figure to y/n. Not that he wasn’t older than her by a good few years, he was, but the idea of him coming across that way made him uncomfortable. And the fact that that idea made him uncomfortable only made him question what he wanted to come off as instead. Mostly, Aaron didn’t want to seem patronizing. He knew y/n was tough and could handle things, but his concern and care had overrode those thoughts. Hotch pushed those thoughts from his mind; he had good intentions sending the email and if it came off in another way, then at least he’d tried his best.

Aaron looked at the clock at his wall and it was five minutes to five. Unlike a normal day, where Jack would have an afterschool activity or Jess would pick him up for a few hours before he would swing by and get Jack for the rest of the evening, tonight was different, and he started packing his things up in his briefcase. He took some of the important files and the rest he left for tomorrow. He’d come to the office early if Jack felt up to going to school tomorrow. Once Hotch had most of his things ready, he moved outside of his office. Jack was playing a game with Spencer, and Aaron called out, “Jack, come up here and get your backpack and lunchbox, please. We’re about to go home.” Jack looked up at his dad and said, “Just one sec, Dad.” Aaron gave his son a look, and Jack sighed, got out of his seat, and made it up the stairs to Aaron’s side. As Jack moved past Spencer, Reid gave his head a little pat and once Jack had passed the lithe agent, Aaron gave Spence a smile before turning to his son and moving with him to the office.

Jack only had one binder and one maths assignment out on Aaron’s office couch. Jack had promised his dad that he would be good in the office, and being good meant doing five minutes of a math worksheet and complaining about how hard it was before the little boy moved out into the bullpen to see the team. Aaron didn’t blame him. Jack had had a hard and stressful day, but he did expect his son to pick up and get ready to go on his own.

Jack was getting old enough for those things now, but Hotch still packed his lunches every day or made sure his son had money for his lunch account. By the time Aaron had his suit jacket back on and his briefcase and shoulder bag in hand, Jack had put his paper and notebook away and was struggling to zip up his small Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles backpack. Aaron leaned down and helped him close the bag and handed it back to Jack. Aaron led his son out of the room and locked the door behind him for the last time for the day. Hotch nodded to Rossi who was also locking up his office and then followed Jack down the stairs. The pair made it through the bullpen, and Jack waved at the team as he passed them. Aaron said, “Thank you” to each of them as well in his low voice. As Hotch got to the edge of the BAU’s area, turned, and said more loudly, “Thanks for today, everyone. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Morgan, Prentiss, Reid, and JJ nodded and said bye.

True to his word, Hotch took Jack to get ice cream at a local spot not far from their house. Jack was ecstatic to be having sweets before dinner. Aaron had to remind his son that he still had to eat some other food once they got home and settled. Jack agreed excitedly as they walked into the pastel-colored storefront. There weren’t many people inside and no one in line, so it took only a few moments for Jack to order his chocolate swirl scoop with add-ins of Oreos and strawberries. Aaron got a scoop of brown butter vanilla for himself and then paid as Jack got them spoons and napkins, then found a comfortable table in the corner of the building near the window. After paying, Hotch sat down across from Jack who said, “Thanks, Dad.” Aaron smiled and reached over and patted the top of his head, replying, “Of course, Buddy.” Hotch cherished these moments. There would only be a few more years that ice cream before dinner was a big thing, and time in some things, such as kids growing up, moved so quickly. Not only was this time for them to have a bit of fun, but it was also a teaching moment for Jack. But Aaron was going to enjoy his ice cream first.

Aaron dipped his plastic spoon into the slightly yellow-colored ice cream. There were specks of vanilla bean in the scoop that was slowly melting in the afternoon sun. Hotch took his spoon and slipped it in his mouth, sucking off the sweetness. Hotch let the cold ice cream sit in his mouth and melt with the body heat inside. The taste was sweet, but not cloyingly so which he enjoyed. The aftertaste of the browned butter hit as he swallowed. Aaron didn’t allow himself to have anything this indulgent very often, so when he did, he tried to enjoy and appreciate it. For many years, Hotch knew that his faster metabolism had gone in his early thirties, and treats were a thing he sought out less and less for himself. However, as he watched Jack enjoy his ice cream and as the soft music played in the space while the cars drifted by outside, he realized that this was something not only Jack needed, but something he needed as well. Aaron was brutal on himself and his body, and maybe he was trying too hard. He wanted and tried to be the best version of himself for the team, but more importantly for Jack, and he might have been taking it too far on his end. He relaxed a bit into his bench seat and took another bite of ice cream, this time just enjoying it for the sake of the experience.

After their paper bowls were empty, Aaron took a breath and looked at Jack who was playing with his spoon and asked, “Jack, did you know what those people who were at your school today were talking about?” The boy stopped fiddling with his cutlery and made a face that said he was thinking before saying, “I think so. They were mad about gay people and shouting. They were really angry and I don’t know why…” Hotch nodded his head and tried to think about how to best respond. He had talked to Jack about the LGBTQ+ community, not so much like that but in the more simple and kid-friendly way of emphasizing that anyone can love anyone else as long as it’s not hurting anyone. That there could be two moms or two dads, and that not everyone felt like a boy or a girl. Jack looked up at his dad and asked, “Why were they so angry?”

Aaron swallowed and replied, “Well, sometimes people don’t like something, or don’t believe in something. And they can think that, but the thing is that they try and want to make other people think it too. And when people don’t agree with them, they get angry. Because if you can’t make someone agree with you, then you can at least make them scared. And what do we know about being scared, Jack?” It took a second before Jack replied, “It’s okay to be scared but being different doesn’t mean being scary.” Aaron nodded proudly and Jack added on, “So they were just big bullies?” Hotch knew it was more complex with that but for now, it was a good analogy and he nodded yes.

This conversation gave Jack a new thought and he asked, “You told me that I shouldn’t give bullies time, but Ms. y/l/n went up to them and tried talking to them.” Aaron nodded and replied, “Yes. You’re right. That’s what I’ve said to you. Things are different with Ms. y/l/n because she’s an adult, and she was trying to keep you and all of the students safe. But you’re right, for you, Jack, I would say to stay away from a situation like that, but there are some other things you can do too.” Aaron knew that Jack was a helper, and always had been. So in a situation where his son might feel helpless, he wanted to give him an option to do something that would give him power in the scenario and to do something that he was good at.

Aaron stated, “So what you can do, Jack, is to find the other kids like you who might be upset. Because those people were saying upsetting and hurtful things. So you can find those kids who are hurting and make sure they’re doing okay.” Jack nodded along, this was something he could do. Aaron also added, “And if things seem bad, like if you feel unsafe or the other kids feel unsafe, the best thing you can do is get help from an adult. From someone you trust or know. Does that make sense?” Jack nodded and sat forward, mirroring Aaron’s posture as he shook his head yes. Hotch smiled and said, “Good, If you have more questions about today you can ask me anytime, okay?”

Just as Aaron and Jack were getting ready to head home, Hotch’s phone pinged with an incoming message, and he checked it. The email was from y/n and he tapped on the screen opening the message which read:

To: [email protected]

From: y/n.y/l/n@_____ISD

Subject: Re-Checking-In

Good afternoon, Mr. Hotchner,

Thank you so much for checking in on me. That is very kind of you. I’m just sorry that Jack or any of the students at recess had to see and hear what they did. As for what the administration thinks about what I did today, I think I’m going to find that out tomorrow, but don’t want to know really, nor should I speculate about it in an email. You are niceto offer your help. I think I’m just going to order a frozen pizza from the store and call it a night. I’m a bit banged up, if it was any more than this I think I’d have to go to the ER (that last bit is hyperbole). Thanks again for checking in Mr. Hotchner. I hope Jack isn’t too upset. Tell him I said hello, and that I’ll see him tomorrow at school! I hope you have a pleasant night,

Ms. y/n.

Aaron frowned slightly. There was a hesitancy in y/n’s tone here. Especially with how the school might react to what had happened. That, and the fact that y/n seemed to be in a lot of pain didn’t make Hotch feel good. It made him want to go over and see her even more. He paused to make sure this was still being done with good intentions. That his desire wasn’t just trying to find an opportunity to see y/n again. The feelings in his gut were still one of concern, even if his heart was doing something different. Hotch pushed aside the new feelings in his chest, something for him to contemplate later, and composed a reply to y/n:

To: y/n.y/l/n@_____ISD

From: [email protected]

Subject: Re-re-Checking-In

y/n, I’m glad you can bring some humor into this situation. That’s a relief. It sounds like you’re in a good bit of pain. Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER? Also, would you let me pick you up a pizza? It’s no big deal at all, and that way you can save money on the delivery. Sorry, I don’t mean to overreach, but I am willing to give a helping hand if you want.

Aaron Hotchner

Hotch really hoped he wasn’t sounding too desperate, or that y/n would think his offering to help her save money made her feel poor. He didn’t mean it that way. He’d tossed a few options out for her to reach out if she needed, or wanted help, or just some company. From what Aaron could tell about y/n was that she was fiercely independent. She’d seemed so put together for someone in their mind a/r. From what he could tell from y/n’s weekly email updates, she made a lot of her own classroom content and tried very hard to connect with each of her students. Not only that but from the two times they’d met at school, there were no indications that she had a partner or parents close by to help her with things. Aaron assumed this mainly because she’d told him how she’d had to learn how to fix the leak in her bathroom faucet from YouTube just so she didn’t have to call in a plumber. That was another time when Aaron had wished he could just whisk himself over to her duplex and lend y/n a hand. Before he could overthink what he’d sent there was another reply:

To: [email protected]

From: y/n.y/l/n@_____ISD

Subject: Re-re-re-Checking-In

Ummm, you’d do that, really? I don’t want to be a bother, Mr. Hotchner. I know you have to take care of Jack and everything…

y/n y/l/n

Now a hint of a smile turned up the corner of Aaron’s mouth. He and Jack had made it to the car at this point and Hotch typed out:

To: y/n.y/l/n@_____ISD

From: [email protected]

Subject: [Re]-Checking-In

y/n,

I’d be happy to take even a small load off of your shoulders. After what you’ve been through today it is the least I can do, and I can get someone to sit with Jack for an hour or so while I come over. To make communication easier, here is my cell Number: (804) 572 - 4459. If you’d like, however, to keep this over email, that’s fine as well. It might be a moment before I get back to you as I have to get Jack home and get him dinner, but I’ll be open after that and talk to you again then. Do you have any allergies or dietary restrictions I should know about before I go grab your pizza?

Aaron Hotchner

The drive home was quiet as Jack thought about what his dad had said. The sandy-haired boy had a few more questions which Aaron did his best to explain. When the questions turned toward religion, it had been a church group protesting, Hotch did his best to turn the conversation back to the key points. He rarely talked to Jack about church or religion, wanting his son to be able to make his own choices in faith, or not to have any at all. That hadn’t been a choice for Hotch as a child, and he wanted Jack to not have the burn of guilt that faith could bring unless it was something his son came to on his own terms. Plus religion had become a bit of a sore subject for Aaron after Haley’s passing. How could a fair God take away someone as good and pure as Haley? It didn’t make sense, and he didn’t have the will to study theodicy. So he pushed those thoughts to the background and focused on getting home.

It didn’t take long for Aaron to get dinner ready for Jack. While he reheated some leftover pasta and veggies, Jack did his homework, and they both had a small dinner. Hotch also texted Jess to see if she was open to swing by for an hour to which she replied, “Yes. I never miss a chance to hang out with my coolest nephew. Are you going on a date or something?” Aaron rolled his eyes at the text, he suspected sarcasm and replied, “Something like that. Making a house call to a friend in need. I’ll tell you more later.” A moment later Jess sent a thumbs-up emoji and said, “I’ll be over in about forty minutes once my boys are settled, probably playing Fortnite or something *sigh*” Hotch liked the text and checked his messages to see a text from a new number which he correctly assumed was y/n. She had sent a simple, “Hello, it’s me, y/n. For your pizza question, I have a/d/r so knock yourself out with that. I’m not a picky eater. Also here’s my address, ________. I’m not doing anything tonight, I couldn’t even if I wanted to, so you can come over anytime, but before nine would be great as I have to wake up early. Thanks so much again. This is very, very nice of you. - y/n.” Aaron liked the text and replied, “Sounds good. I’ll make sure to make it to yours before nine. - Aaron.”

Jess arrived promptly at 6:30, and Hotch let her know it was the normal bedtime routine that night. A half hour of TV, upstairs, teeth brushed, and in bed by 8:30. Jessica nodded and said, “Gotcha. You owe me a story for this one.” Aaron chuckled and said, “I’ll let you know. There’s an open bottle of Pino in the fridge if you want some. I shouldn’t be gone long.” Jess couldn’t help herself from saying, “That's what she said,” and Hotch flushed crimson. Unlike Haley, Jess had gotten the more crass humor of the Brooks family.

Aaron left the room, keys in hand before any more jokes could be levied at him. He really didn’t plan on staying at y/n’s long. However thanks to the recent comments, Aaron couldn’t help but feel like he was a teenager sneaking out of the house to see some girl after curfew. Hotch shook his head at the silly notion and reminded himself that he was an adult man, and such thoughts were above him. However, he couldn’t stop the small thrill that ran through him as he entered y/n’s address into his phone. He swung by the local store and picked up two frozen pizzas that he thought y/n would like and matched her allergy and dietary restrictions she’d sent him earlier. He also moved to the pharmacy section and picked up some pain relievers, liniment oil, and cotton pads, just in case y/n didn’t have any of those things at her apartment. After all, she had said she was going to get stuff delivered to her, and he didn’t know if those were things she had planned on getting and then just didn’t tell him because she hadn’t wanted to be a burden. At least, that was how Aaron justified the extra purchases.

Hotch texted y/n that he was on the way and the closer he got to her place, the more nervous he felt. It was strange. He hadn’t felt this way in ages. He had to keep attempting to suppress the feeling, but it kept creeping up on him like frost on the ground in the morning; an inevitable thing that he knew would change and probably go away with time. It was a week away from summer, there shouldn’t be frost on the ground at all. Hotch felt exasperated at his state and realized that maybe he was just too cold of a person and the frost stuck with him. Outside of y/n’s place, Aaron said, “Get ahold of yourself Hotchner, and be helpful for once, goddammit.” His little pep-talk got him to the door with the groceries. The lights were on inside and Aaron knocked lightly on the front door. There was a very muffled, “I’m coming” and all of a sudden the piercing darkness was broken by a stream of yellow light that poured from y/n’s open door. Aaron blinked for a second as he took in y/n. She seemed pretty relaxed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts that were nearly swallowed by the length of her shirt. She was barefoot and leaning against the door frame taking him in as well. Apart from the angry bruises on y/n’s face and her split lip, she looked comfortable here. ‘This is her home, of course, she’s comfortable’ Aaron reminded himself.

While Hotch’s eyes had been adjusting to the light, y/n’s eyes were getting used to the dark. Jack’s father had always been an attractive man even though she’d only seen him briefly in the drop-off and pick-up lines and even less for any extended period of time. But Mr. Hotchner had a face, and attitude one didn’t easily forget. There was an intensity about him, a fierceness that could easily draw one in or scare one away.

y/n wondered why the other teachers didn’t talk about him more. Maybe it was all the things he and Jack had gone through, horrible horrible things that kept people away. It made sense that Mr. Hotchner was in the FBI. He had a high-intensity job. All that energy had to go somewhere, and when he wasn’t being a parent to Jack and doting on his son, he must be doing dangerous and exciting things. Far more exciting than her job at least. y/n noticed his jeans and polo, a new outfit on him, and most certainly not his normal pressed suit and tie. y/n wasn’t complaining. His arms filled out the sleeves and his waist seemed a little less trim. y/n felt like a total fool for just standing there, realizing that he was also waiting to come inside, or maybe just drop off the bag of groceries he’d brought her so kindly using his own money and taking time out of his night.

y/n snapped back to reality and berated herself and thought, ‘You’re fun little thoughts are getting out of hand. Please like he’d care about you like that.’ It was true, y/n had allowed herself to think, just a bit about the mysterious Mr. Hotchner. It was harmless, just small vignettes of them laughing about a joke, or holding hands -- kid's stuff, or at least it had been until he showed up outside her doorstep. y/n shook her head and said, “I’m so sorry Mr. Hotchner. I get hit in the head and my manners fly out the window. Would you like to come in, or just hand those things over? I can pay you back for them. Do you have PayPal or Venmo?” The words came out quickly, more quickly than y/n had hoped. There was no hope in sounding nonchalant now. A flush started forming on y/n’s face and she wanted to put her face in her palm, but had enough dignity left to not do that in front of the parent of her student.

Aaron let out a little sigh of relief knowing that he wasn’t the only one who thought meeting like this was a bit, different. He wondered for a second why y/n had accepted his help, but pushed that aside and said, “Please Ms. y/n, you can just call me Aaron. I’d like to come in for a moment. See if you’re alright if you don’t mind?” y/n nodded and opened the door wider for Hotch. Aaron slid past her into the warm comfort of her space. It was lit mostly by lamps and the furnishings seemed soft and cozy which would match y/n’s personality. It was a bit more sparse and minimal than Hotch would have imagined, but maybe the chaos of a classroom called for order at home. The lights in the kitchen were on and the brightest. Hotch heard the soft click of the door behind him as he looked over the space.

y/n stepped forward and said, “Well, please just call me y/n. Unless I’m in the classroom, Ms. makes me feel like a 19th-century spencer waiting for Harlod Hill to come into town.” y/n rolled her eyes at her choice of words. ‘Yes y/n, let’s talk about The Music Man in front of Mr. Hotchner, why don’t you?’ In an attempt to recover and hide her embarrassment, y/n stated. “I was just pouring myself a glass of wine when you knocked, um, would you like one? I can also take those groceries from you.” Aaron offered y/n a soft smile that only made her heart beat faster as he extended the bag of groceries and said, “I’m good for now. Thank you. Have you had anything to eat yet tonight?” y/n took the paper bag and their fingers brushed, the warmth of their skin spreading despite the frozen contents inside the bag. y/n cleared her throat and turned toward the kitchen in an attempt to hide how flustered she was. The cool linoleum tile of her kitchen managed to cool her down, and she placed the pizzas in the freezer. She tried to say casually over her shoulder, “I haven’t eaten yet, no. You can sit down anywhere if you like…” y/n didn’t know exactly if Mr. Hotchner wanted to stay long and she felt silly for having offered him a drink in the first place. Maybe he didn’t drink. By the time y/n had situated the food, Aaron had taken a seat in one of the chairs sitting catty corner to her tan couch. Trying to play it cool, y/n moved to her counter and poured herself the glass of wine she had been planning before she’d put her foot in her mouth. y/n contemplated that maybe this was why she was good with kids. The nuances of adulthood could pass over children’s heads so easily. They didn’t feel the awkwardness that y/n did right now. Nor the racing of her heart as Aaron filled one of her seats.

She moved over to the couch and asked again, “Can I please pay you back for the groceries? It was nice of you to bring them, and for you to check in on me. I got a few angry emails from parents saying that I exposed their children to danger today, so yours was a nice change.” Aaron’s eyebrows pulled together. The comment about payment passed him by. He wasn’t going to let Jack’s favorite teacher pay him back, even if she asked a hundred times. But the more pressing issue was the emails from other parents. If y/n’s actions didn’t look good, then he didn’t know what they were. He asked in a low voice, “Why were they upset?” y/n bit her lower lip and cringed as the pain stung from the split in her mouth. She had forgotten it was there for a moment. Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought up the other emails. Depending on how the district’s admin took her situation, it wouldn’t help her to spread information.

y/n chose her words carefully as she replied, “Well some were mad that I got hurt in front of their children and some were angry that their kids were exposed to those protestors in the first place.” y/n looked at Aaron and his slightly annoyed and sympathetic gaze made her feel better, safe. She hadn’t really processed what had happened to her yet, and she’d been alone since she’d been sent home. It was good to have someone here, and y/n took a sip of her wine and set her glass down on the table before leaning her head back on the couch and sighing deeply deflating slightly.

In a smaller voice, a voice that gave away the pain she was feeling y/n said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have done anything. I just didn’t like the things they were saying. Kids are much more cognizant than people like to think and for those who have gay parents, or siblings, or might be part of the community themselves, they shouldn’t have to hear that stuff.” y/n pinched the bridge of her nose and continued, “This had to happen the week before summer break?” As y/n had her eyes closed, Aaron took the chance to give her face a better look. The bruise under her eye was turning a nasty purple that would fade to an even more ugly yellow color in the following days. The split on her lip looked nasty as well. The tender pink skin must hurt as she talked. He got what she was saying about kids knowing more than others expected. Jack was a prime example of that. Of course, Jack had been through more pain and grief than many his age. It would only make sense that he was more perceptive. The claims from the other parents sounded like bullshit to him though.

y/n turned her face to him and said softly, “Sorry for unloading on you. I haven’t really had anyone to talk to about this yet. I don’t mean to hold you up.” Aaron nodded his head no and said, “You’re not bothering me, and you’re not holding me up. What were the protestors saying exactly, had you seen them before?” y/n’s eyes softened. She hadn’t really allowed herself the opportunity to picture Aaron like this in person, so kind and concerned. She’d just let herself think silly little snippets, but this gentleness hadn’t filtered into the equation. y/n moved her gaze to the ceiling and said, “Oh they were saying all the homophobic classics. Fags go to hell, god hates queers, and they were accusing the teachers on the staff of being groomers and turning the students gay, all that jazz.” Hotch rolled his eyes. These points were so tiring at this point, and he was annoyed with y/n for having to deal with this. y/n looked at Hotch and said, “And I haven’t seen any of those people before. Not like I’d be looking for those types of people on a daily anyway. They must have come down from upstate.”

Hotch let out a small huff, his lawyer side kicking in as he asked, “You seemed hesitant about the school’s response to what you did today, and some other parents showed concern. Do you think the district might not support your actions?” y/n sat forward and took another drink of wine, more this time. It was helping her calm down. Not that she normally needed wine to unwind, but it had been a long day, and there was a very attractive man unexpectedly sitting in her home. That last fact was still a wonder to y/n. Like a dream. y/n considered that she might have gotten a very bad concussion and was being wheeled right now to a hospital. But she was brought back from her wayward thoughts when Hotch cleared his throat. y/n shook her head. She was letting her brain get away with itself far more than normal. But she blamed it on the pain, painkillers, and stress of the whole situation. That stress was slightly intensified by Mr. Hotchner’s question, but y/n realized it was better to say it out loud instead of keeping it in to eat at her.

y/n sighed and said, “It really depends. You’ve heard about that Mom’s for Student Purity campaign at the beginning of the school year, I’m sure?” Hotch nodded his head slightly. He had heard of it but hadn’t thought much of it. Only that there had been some issues and poor behavior at the school assemblies. Aaron had assumed that the district had taken care of the situation and that’s why he hadn’t heard more about it. As hard as Hotch tried to be involved in Jack’s academic life, and he did show up to every game, play, and parent-teacher conference, he didn’t have much time for the school board meetings. That had been Haley’s forte and the thought pained him momentarily. Aaron wished he could live up to the expectation that y/n must have had of him as he said, “I’ve heard of them, but not much. I’m sure they’d have something to say about today.”

y/n let out a little snort and replied, “Tell me about it. The district has been having a constant battle with them. Ever since the president and the vice-president of their organization got elected to the school board it’s been hard to keep them at bay. They’ve tried implementing book bans, vetting curriculum, and getting the librarian fired. Right now they’re not in the majority and their ideas are unfounded and impractical to implement, but they’re making things hard. Every time the district shoots them down, they start a new campaign and it gets more troublesome. I know this will come up in a performance review and if they don’t like it, they’ll find a way to make it hard for me. They’ve done it to others already. I can imagine the comments, ‘Teacher causes brawl in front of students leaving them disturbed.’”

Hotch took a moment to think about how hard that must be. To have to be so careful that making a choice to do the right thing could get y/n in trouble. How the system was setting her up to have to make hard choices at the expense of her employment possibly. All of these loopholes reminded him of his own work in a way, though he didn’t have to deal with kids all day. Even though some of the police and sheriff’s departments the BAU worked with acted like children. y/n sighed and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain. I love my job. I love working with my students. I love to see their joy and to have concepts click in their heads. They bring me so much happiness every day. It’s just the other part of the job, having to tip-toe around people and admin, it kind of dims that excitement I had when I was a new teacher.” y/n finished off her wine as Aaron took a moment to think. y/n had a great way of telling stories, it wasn’t a surprise that Jack was drawn to her tone and humor. It drew him in. He turned his head back to y/n who was now longingly looking between her wine bottle on her counter and her empty glass, as if trying to decide if she should risk another glass.

Hotch asked carefully, “Have you taken anything for the pain?” He didn’t want to say that she looked rough, but her face looked like it hurt, and from y/n’s small grimaces, it clearly did. y/n nodded and said, “I did. I had some painkillers when I got home. I think I have another hour before I can take another round.” Aaron didn’t make a comment on y/n’s choice to mix alcohol with painkillers, nor the fact that she was drinking on an empty stomach. He’d recommend that she have some dinner in a minute, but for now, he said, “Well, I think if you iced your face for a bit and used some liniment oil on your lip it would reduce the swelling. It’s still going to hurt for a few days, but the bruising should be a little better, and it might tide you over until you can take your next dose of painkillers.” y/n nodded and said, “There’s a bag of ice in the freezer. I was doing that earlier but then fell asleep. I woke up in a nice puddle.” y/n grunted slightly as she got to her feet and made her way toward the kitchen. Aaron followed her with his gaze and he asked, “Can I refill your wine glass, and maybe you can try that oil, it’s pretty soothing. I know from experience.”

y/n turned her head toward Aaron, he was being so nice to her and she wasn’t sure why. She didn’t come across people who were just nice for the sake of it often, and it filled her with warmth. She nodded her head yes and tried to imagine Aaron, who was always so put-together and composed, not bruised and bloody. The thought sent a pang through her. She wondered how often his getting injured happened, and if he’d let her help him like he was helping her. y/n shook her head. This was already feeling like a fantasy, she couldn’t possibly hope for more than this. Things like this didn’t happen, not to her. y/n grabbed the bag of ice that had refrozen after her nap, and grabbed a towel from the drawer next to the fridge, cradling the cool bag in her hand. y/n moved back to the couch and sat back down. The butterflies in her tummy had fluttered their wings like they did when they stopped to get warmed on the gray pavement outside of her house in summer. She wished she could still them, but at the same time, it was such a rush, they almost made up for the pain in her face. She wished she could get a better read on Mr. Hotchner. She knew about his son, and his circumstances, but even so, he was unpredictable like a comet. Why he’d offered to help her apart from out of kindness was hard to pin down, and she didn’t dare ask him outright. Why she’d accepted was another mystery. Did wanting to be in the company of a good man make her a bad person? Was she sexualizing him, taking advantage?

Before her thoughts could take her further, y/n pressed the bag to her face, covering her and dimming the flush that was blooming on her cheeks. y/n pressed a little too hard and grimaced at the cold and the pressure. Just as she did this, Aaron sat down with her wine and the grocery bag. Hotch softly said, “Gentle now.” y/n looked up at him, half of her face covered, and smiled. She felt like I might cry, but she didn’t know why. How pathetic she must have looked to him. Not able to take care of herself. But she’d been trying. She’d been trying to prove she could care for herself forever. Now one had trusted her, not after the accident. Not after her life had been turned around. But she didn’t talk about that. She didn’t even talk about it with herself anymore. There was no point in self-pity, she’d lived, externally unscathed. For as perceptive as Mr. Hotchner was, he couldn’t know everything inside her, maybe that was what she was waiting for. Someone who could explain why bad things happened to good people. y/n swallowed back her emotions and wiped away one stray tear, and Hotch sat in silence watching her with concern. Wondering why her mood had shifted so suddenly.

After a few minutes, y/n pulled the ice pack off her face and set it on the table. She then picked up her fresh wine glass and took a smaller sip, savoring it this time, as she did this, Aaron put his hand into the grocery bag and pulled out the cotton wipes normally used for removing makeup, then the liniment oil which was in a small dropper topped bottle. He opened the bottle and took off the paper cover keeping the clear liquid inside. Hotch screwed on the cap and then dropped a few drops of oil onto the pad. He considered that if this was for Jack, he’d use his hands, and let the warmth of his skin soothe the hurt. But this wasn’t Jack, and Aaron remembered that as he started raising his hand to y/n’s mouth like she was someone he could just tend to like family. Hotch froze mid-movement and turned noticeably red. He cleared his throat and said, “Sorry,” as he set the pad into y/n’s waiting hand. She was as shocked as he was at how he’d reached out for her. y/n murmured a barely audible, “Thanks” as she took the pad and, this time, more carefully pressed it to her split lip. Aaron filled the silence with what he hoped were some helpful reminders. It felt too awkward if he didn’t speak after his slip-up with his hand, plus, he was going to have to leave in a few minutes. He didn’t want to stay out late and the darkness outside was only getting darker.

“If the school or the district ends up giving you any serious trouble, make sure your union rep is with you when you have to explain the situation. And, heaven forbid, there is some complaint and the union can’t do anything, I have a few lawyer friends I can get you in contact with.” y/n nodded her understanding, Her eyes widened at his lawyer comment. Who doesn’t this man know? Aaron continued, “You should ice your face on and off until you go to bed, and make sure you get some dinner before you sleep. You can also use this oil in other places if you’re aching elsewhere, just make sure not to get it in your eyes.” y/n watched him list off these things so collectedly. Not even having to think about them. She considered that he would make a good teacher if he was inclined toward that profession, but then again, he was the leader of an FBI Unit, how much more of a teacher can you get than that? y/n snapped her head up, realizing Aaron was saying something to her. Hotch smiled and repeated, “Can I see?” He gestured toward her lip and y/n let out a little breath and said, “Okay,” as she removed the pad from her lip and looked into Aaron’s dark, thoughtful eyes.

Hotch sat forward in his chair. y/n’s face was in the light of a lamp and he could see her full-looking lips which were pretty except where they were marred by the scar and scab of dark clotted blood. It didn’t look bad enough to need stitches, but just barely. He’d seen so many scars like these on Morgan, Reid, Emily, and his own mouth that it didn’t bother him. What did bother him was that what was a painful and annoying injury being inflicted on y/n. That would sting for at least a week. Sure it sucked when it happened to him or a member of the team, but they’d signed up for that, the most y/n should have to expect in terms of harm on the job was a paper cut. Clearly, he had been mistaken.

Since they had both returned to their seats, y/n and Aaron had started drifting closer together like moths drawn to a flame. Hotch was about a foot away from y/n and could feel the ghost of her breath on his face and the hint of her barely touched second glass of rose now forgotten on the table. Without thinking, he moved his large hand up to the side of her face. The warmth of his hand on the side of her face had y/n rest her chin in his palm, and she closed her eyes. Not exactly sure what or why he was doing this, Aaron brushed his thumb over y/n’s top lip and then softly over her bottom lip. She winced as the pad of his thumb brushed over her scab, but didn’t pull away from his touch. y/n opened her eyes and Hotch dropped his hand. He leaned in slightly, entranced by y/n, her presence, just wanting to be a bit closer to her. y/n did the same.

The moment was shattered when y/n’s phone loudly went off. Aaron dropped his hand like a lead weight, and y/n’s head snapped toward her phone on the side of the table. She turned her gaze back toward Aaron, but the moment had been broken. He looked silly, almost ashamed of himself. He’d pulled back and away and his posturing also made y/n feel like a fool. What had she been thinking? y/n got up grabbed her phone and answered, stepping farther away, but not so far away that Hotch couldn’t hear. What did she have to lose after acting so immature in front of him anyway? She could hardly think how she’d act when she saw him again, especially in the classroom.

Putting the phone to her ear, she listened as her doctor asked if she’d picked up the refill of the medication that she had needed since her accident. y/n dipped her head. She’d completely forgotten about going to the pharmacy after her day and replied, “No not yet. I’ll pick them up right after work tomorrow.” There was a short reminder that those meds were helping y/n and she shouldn’t go without them. y/n nodded and said, “I know. I’ll pick them up tomorrow. I have enough to make it till then.” Hotch watched y/n cave in on herself as she walked away from him. He hadn’t meant to make her feel bad, or silly. He felt silly. Like someone who hadn’t been thinking about what he was doing. He shouldn’t have put y/n in that position and he was sorry for it. He’d have to find a way to apologize and leave y/n to her night before making some other kind of monumental error in judgment.

Hotch heard y/n wrap up her call and her footsteps came back toward him. He stood and moved into the open space of the living room. The front door was just a few feet away and he felt like running out of it. But he stayed in discomfort and said, “I’m sorry for what I did earlier, y/n. That was inappropriate. I, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” y/n dropped her eyes again and said, “It’s alright. You were really kind to come over here and listen to me ramble and complain for half an hour. Not even my friends did that, and I’ll make sure to heed your advice. It’s clear you have a lot more practical life experience than I do. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” Aaron nodded, trying to accept her words for a situation he’d created. He wished he could explain what he’d been thinking, but he couldn’t because he hadn’t been thinking. The final nail in the coffin was when y/n said, “I hope you have a good night, Mr. Hotchner.” The change back to his last name, y/n hoped sounded regretful, but to Aaron, it only sounded hollow. Now it was Aaron’s turn to drop his head and he moved toward the door, stopping for one second as his fingertips brushed the cool metal, so unlike y/n’s warm skin.

y/n didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all. She hadn’t really known why she’d said yes to him coming over other than she wanted to see Aaron. She had enjoyed feeling his hand on her face. It was fast and strange like a dream, but she’d liked it, and part of her wanted very badly to understand why she’d wanted him here. And she didn’t think she could do it alone. She assumed that Aaron was as lost as she was. It seemed like he was. The words of y/n’s therapist rang in her ears, “Sometimes being strong is letting people in instead of keeping them out.” Just as Hotch’s hand latched onto the door knob y/n said, “Mr. Hotch… Aaron. I can’t exactly tell you why I asked you here, apart from the fact that I wanted you here, and I really enjoyed having you here, for all of it. I mean, like, before the phone call. I don’t know what this is,” she gestured between them, and continued, “But I’d like to understand it more. Maybe when the semester is over we could get coffee or something. Or if you don’t want that, I understand too.”

There was a moment of silence that felt like an eternity before Aaron turned. His expression looked lighter, and maybe there was a ghost of a smile on his face that said, “I’d like that y/n. I enjoyed tonight too. You have my number now, so you let me know once you have the headspace to come up with a day for our meeting. I look forward to it.” y/n smiled too and raised her hand and waved. Hotch then moved outside and closed the door behind him. As he walked down the drive he felt better. Much better, and happy he’d come, even if he hadn’t been sure why, he had a better picture now, and he felt less guilty about it. He’d have something to tell Jess when the time was right, but for now, he could look forward to getting to know y/n better, and get to know himself too.

Inside, y/n looked at the door for a second before she moved to it and locked it. She then moved to the couch and dropped into the cushions with a sigh. Once she’d grounded herself, y/n grabbed her glass and took another sip. The bag of ice was once again going unnoticed on the cushions and melting. y/n pulled the glass from her lips and contemplated how her face didn’t hurt so much anymore. Perhaps it was the painkillers, or the wine, or maybe, just maybe, it was the courage to tell Aaron the truth, and the possibility to know more about that feeling between them.

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maladaptiveobsession · 12 days ago

Text

“Unprofessional”

Synopsis: Your collar inspires unprofessional thoughts in Sirris and Winter.

Contains: gn!reader, gn!sirris, gn!winter, age difference, coercion, discipline, dubcon, spanking

Words: 749

A/N: Brief lewdities featuring Sirris and Winter. Apologies for my abrupt and lengthy absence; I’ve been trying to hold myself together after some traumatic experiences and just haven’t felt the itch to write until recently. If you left an ask and I haven’t answered yet, just know I am working on it, but perfectionism threatens my workflow.

Truthfully, I’d like to work on this some more, but I thought now would be as good a time as any to take a swing at perfectionism.

Sirris

Upon seeing their favorite student stroll into class brazenly collared and leashed, Sirris was taken aback. Oh, please don’t misunderstand! They’re genuinely thrilled to see you express yourself so comfortably. You’ve always been a curious mind, so perhaps they ought to offer private lessons—a chance to explore kinks too complex to properly discuss in class. Sexuality is safest when explored with guidance, after all, and who could be a better guide than a trusted teacher? What’s so odd about wanting to ensure their student makes safe choices?

With such a delicate topic, it would be awfully difficult to avoid touching you altogether, don’t you think? Sirris is a firm believer in hands-on education, so think nothing of the wandering hands. Admittedly, they find the lessons more enjoyable than any teacher reasonably should. What can they say? You’re undeniably attractive! With such lovely lips and a charming voice to match, your allure would entice even the most sexually repressed individual. Attraction is perfectly normal; there’s no shame in the body reacting to base instincts.

Really, who could fault them for the heat coiling in their stomach when they guide your body into various positions and restraints? Lingering touches and heated dreams are beyond their control.

And you’re as much a victim to instinct as they are; don’t think for a second you can hide your body’s reactions from their keen eyes. Don’t fight your nature; just let the pleasure wash over you. It’s all part of the lesson. Knowing how to enjoy yourself is as vital as safety.

Of course, they enjoy your company too. Who doesn’t? The other students admire you. Even the staff adore you! Surely you’ve seen the way they all look at you. They’re far from the only degenerate around here, you know? No, of course you don’t. You’re just so damn trusting. That being yet another reason why you require guidance. There are some awful people out there who would take advantage of an inexperienced youth such as yourself. They only want to make sure you’re being treated well. Is that so wrong? Unprofessional to be sure, but let it be known that Sirris has always been one to play the rules by ear.

Winter

Winter’s simple inquiry about your collar sparking mutual desire. At the time, they simply couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind the strange accessory. You’d been quite secretive when they’d broached the topic in class, dodging the question the first few times. It seemed detention loosened your tongue well enough, at least. Upon closer inspection, the thing hardly looked comfortable. Slipping their fingers between the collar and your neck, a low whimper—nearly inaudible, if not for their proximity—tumbled past your lips as they gave a short tug. Much to their chagrin, the sound immediately sent heat pooling to their core. Hurriedly withdrawing their hand, they resumed the lesson, desperately trying to ignore the subtle ache between their thighs.

Winter had caught you touching yourself in class only once before; the chastity device they’d fitted you in being a wonderful deterrent for lecherous youths such as yourself. Yet ever since that incident, you seemed to do it about every class! Nothing seemed to deter you. Why, they’d go so far as to say you were provoking them on purpose; like you were itching for discipline. Sincerely, they were at a loss for how to handle you. Not only were you torturing them in class, you were plaguing their thoughts.

Amidst all manner of unprofessional thoughts, poorly repressed urges echoed; recalling the pleasant sound of your pained whimpers that followed with each whack, how natural it felt to pull you into their lap, and the shameful pleasure your squirming accompanied. Little could be accomplished when you were in the same room.

Lust permeates their core, mixing with years of repressed urges and gnawing on their will to resist temptation. They weren’t even safe in their dreams, visions of you in various historical contraptions, skin bare and raw from abuse, making such pretty noises, yet always with that damned collar around your neck. How much longer must they endure this torment? The overwhelming conflict of desire and reason is driving them mad. No, this cannot persist.

Clearly mere scolding and spanking wouldn’t be sufficient discipline for a troubled youth such as yourself. Indeed, you require intimate guidance, and who better than a trusted mentor with wisdom and experience only age can supply? Unprofessionalism be damned, that line was already crossed the moment you entered their dreams.

#degrees of lewdity #dol #sirris the science teacher #winter the history teacher #dol x reader #degrees of lewdity x reader #reader insert #gn reader #tw age difference #tw dubcon #tw coercion #mdni #mal.mine

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stresstester · 19 days ago

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The disaster, the observer, the investigator — CURIOUS-2004!

Field Notes on her:

Her arrival always triggers INES-level events.

Runs around the facility yelling bizarre questions, derailing workflows and provoking incidents.

Was once seen chasing MKER (Multi-Loop Channel-type Energy Reactor) down the hall screaming “LET ME COUNT THE LOOPS! LET ME COUNT THE LOOPS!!”

Wears a rubber seal ring (GOST 9833-73) on her wrist — stolen from a pump shaft “because it looked cute.” Engineering staff is still trying to locate the missing part. Nobody dares ask her to return it.

VVER-440 is the only one who tolerates her. And CANDU, sometimes.

Once sent out party invites “in honor of AP-1000,” locked everyone in the auditorium, and delivered an unhinged slideshow on “WHY Y'ALL SUCK” while the projector made worrying noises.

a pretty enjoyable girlie, isn't she though? more of her and THE REACTORS will appear soon — IN THIS BLOG! :3

#oc #original character #curious-2004 #nuclearcore #retro futurism #sciencecore #glitchcore #2000s nostalgia #digital character #lab aesthetic #mad scientist #character design #my art #tumblr artists #pink hair #scientific failure #ask her about the RBMK #post-sovietcore

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darbyoakana · 10 months ago

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An Overlord's Tail - Chapter 1

Summary: Alastor X reader, F/M. You are new to the hotel staff working under Alastor. He spends his days pestering and tormenting you. But that pestering turns into a competition, one you want to win. Can you get the upper hand? Are you getting too close to him? Warnings: No real warnings for this chapter, just Alastor being a dick. This story is 18+, minors can fuck right off.

___________________________________________

Chapter 1: A New Start

It had been three months since you walked out of your job at VoxTek and you were starting to get desperate. Without work to focus on, everything else felt so much harder. You had nothing but stress to distract you and it wasn’t enough. You pushed your self-loathing to the side.

You rushed out the door, wanting to get to the interview early. The last interview you had went poorly. Perhaps it was the interviewer, or maybe it was the fact that you were covered by entrails from an incident out front. Hell is a wild place, expect the unexpected. But you were set, nothing was going to ruin this. You adjusted your plastic poncho, surprise bodily fluids or parts were going to get you today. The joke, per usual, was on you. You should have also worn rain boots you thought, as a large gush of blood filled your shoes. You groaned. Watching the still-gushing corpse being dragged down the alleyway next to you.

The cafe door's bell dinged as you walked in, pulling off the poncho. Despite pouring your shoes out on the curb, they still made a soggy squish as you walked. The cafe was pretty empty except for one person sitting at a table. You froze. No way, you thought, that can't be who I'm meeting

Vaggie sat nervously at the booth waiting. She had lost track of how many interviews she had gone through for this position. She had hired eight people so far and none of them had lasted longer than a week. Why did Alastor have to be such a pain in the ass? The hotel needed help, since the last extermination and the elimination of Adam, sinners started to accept the hotel. Their residency numbers had shifted dramatically and more staff was needed to keep things running. But for whatever reason, the one position that needed to be filled was constantly challenged by the person Vaggie was trying to help in the first place. Vaggie looked up and waved at you, you hesitantly approached the table.

"Hi! So nice to meet you!" Vaggie got up and shook your hand. You both sat down. Typical interview discussions ensued, past experience, general information about the hotel, etc. You could see that Vaggie was eager, maybe a little stressed.

"So.. what exactly is my job position?" you asked.

"Well.... there's a lot of miscellaneous work that needs to be done until we figure out a better workflow for the hotel while it goes through these changes. But for the most part you'll uh..." her tone became painful. " Be assisting Alastor...." Your facial expression dropped to concern.

"That's uh, a hell of a job..." you said.

"Well...." Vaggie's teeth were gritting together, knowing she needed to be upfront about the position. "...based on your resume, I think you are the most qualified person so far. And the pay is great! It kinda has to be at this point.” She sighed “Look, we’re getting desperate."

Oh, you were qualified alright, six years at VoxTek putting up with the most insane bullshit you could imagine. If it wasn't Velvette being an absolute cunt, it was Valentino being a fucking nightmare, Vox surprisingly was the least painful to work with. Which is why you ended up in the position you did. He eventually made you his assistant, to keep you convenient and close. And frankly, if you could put up with Vox's boo hoo "Alastor doesn't love me" baby bullshit, how hard could this job be? At best, Alastor doesn't like you and you keep looking for jobs. At worst... you die a terrible and painful death. At least then the job worry wouldn't be a concern anymore. Fuck it, you thought.

"Yeah, I do see your point." you sighed. "Alright."

"Can you start tomorrow?" she asked eagerly

They had offered you a room at the hotel. You felt it best to endure the trial period Alastor seemed to be implementing before you gave up your crummy apartment. You laid in bed both excited and dreading tomorrow. Vox was going to lose his shit, you thought. You knew WAY too much about his personal life concerning Alastor and there was nothing in Heaven or Hell that would convince Vox you weren't doing this just to hurt him. But that was his problem. In honesty, it was the last place you wanted to work. You wanted so badly to be free of your current situation. Let things go and move on. You hoped this wouldn't blow up in your face. But most things did, it was Hell after all.

You woke early, the Hotel was a good distance from your apartment. You took a cab to be safe on time. You didn't bother with the poncho, Alastor struck you as someone who would enjoy you being uncomfortable covered in drying sticky blood. The lobby was large, you hadn't been to the Hotel before and you didn't know what to expect but you found yourself impressed. Most of Vox’s footage was from the outside of the hotel.

Vaggie waved you down and welcomed you. Introduced you to the staff one by one. Charlie was thrilled to meet you. But you got the feeling she felt that way about anyone and anything. Vaggie went over the floor plan of the hotel, kitchen, dining room, and so on. You scribbled away on a notepad. Sounded like the dress code was relaxed here, you felt relief. Vox always made you wear these business suit-like outfits that surely came from Val's studio, they were so tight and short. You didn't mind at the time, it made your unprofessional activities much easier, but the idea of wearing your own clothes sounded nice.

"Here is your desk. You'll be using the computer to log complaints from the guests, ordering supplies, typical stuff." She looked down to see a shattered computer screen. "UGHHH pendejo! I recommend saving a backup copy of everything you do, Alastor is still protesting the use of the computer and keeps destroying it." It didn't surprise you, you knew for a fact Vox spends all his free time spying on the Hotel. And any electronic device was an in for him. "ALASTOR!!!!" She yelled.

"No need to shout" Alastor was right next to her. She jumped.

"Stop doing shit like this!" she pointed to the computer. "You are sabotaging the hotel!"

"I'm doing no such thing." He looked at his nails, uninterested.

"Uuugghhhhh! .. Whatever." Vaggie pinched her fingers between her eyes and collected herself. She took a deep breath. "Alastor, this is ---" She was cut off by the sound of Charlie calling for her, tears gushing from her eyes. "Shit. Sorry! I'll be right back!" She gave you a look of concern, and you gave her a reassuring nod, letting her know you'd be fine without her.

"I assume you are the new replacement." Alastor said flatly.

"And hopefully the last." you said cheerily.

"Mmm. Hope. So fun to destroy!" he spun his microphone. "Very well then. Follow me."

You followed him through the hotel as he listed item after item that needed to be done. You scratched away at your notepad. He was clearly trying to overwhelm you, it didn't however. It felt similar to the days that you assisted Velvette. Constant list of demands that were consistently changing without notice.

"Actually, Alastor sir, there's something I'd like to discuss before we go any further. If that's alright?"

He leaned towards you, head tilted. "And what might that be, my dear?"

"One of the reasons Vaggie thought I would be a good fit for this position is my previous experience."

"I'm afraid I haven't looked at your resume, inlighten me, will you?"

"Well.." It was awkward and somewhat painful to say, but you knew it needed to be done. "For the last six years I've been employed at V Tower, the last three years I was Vox's personal assistant." You had previously been very confident up until this point, but this was uncomfortable. "I figured it was best to tell you right away, rather than you finding out later. I didn't want it to look like I was hiding something."

"Hmm. Very wise of you. Why pursue new employment?"

"There were a lot of reasons. But my relationship with Vox had become... unprofessional." You pushed the image of Vox fucking you on his desk back down into the pit it came up from. "He's pushy and controlling, both as a boss and... whatever else we were. Always wanting more, pushing boundaries constantly. But bottom line, he broke my trust.”

Alastor knew exactly what you meant. Vox had constantly pushed for more from Alastor. And being set in his ways, Alastor often felt like he and Vox were sheets of sandpaper slowly wearing away at each other. He of course didn't tell you any of this, there he remained with his unnerving smile.

"Hmm." He leaned in closer to you and placed the tip of his claw under your chin, tilting your head to an uncomfortable angle. "Quite a dangerous move, switching sides like this." Alastor was a bit taller than you, but right now it felt like he towered over you, you knew he was trying to intimidate you. Radio static hissed in your ears. You stood your ground, staring into his deep eyes. Eyes that felt like dark endless pits. He snapped back to his smiling self, straightening up. "Well, enduring those buffoons, maybe you will last longer than the others!" He chuckled. "I do however appreciate the disclosure. Come, come." You took an exhale of relief and followed. You hoped this information would make you more valuable in the long run.

You knew a lot, more than you should, about the inner workings of VoxTek. Vox was arrogant, he liked to boast. Showing you the newest upgrades that haven't been released, all the ways he spied on the city. One thing in particular, you savored. He left you alone in his penthouse once, you weren't snooping per se, but tucked away was a small ..shrine? For lack of a better word. Where Vox kept all his trinkets and photos from when he and Alastor were "friends". You felt, should the need call for it, you could be very helpful to the Hotel if Vox became a bigger threat. Though guilt did run through you, despite the bad parts, you missed Vox. A lot of those things were told to you in confidence. And you didn't have any intention of sharing them unless Vox forced you to. You knew it was only a matter of time before he got wind of your new job. And no doubt in your mind, Vox would indeed be a personal problem.

_______________________________________________

The days following would be a struggle, Alastor wanted his coffee and paper by 7 AM. The hotel was at least a forty-five-minute walk and you didn't have much left in your account to pay for a cab. A room at the hotel sounded more and more appealing. Entering the gates you picked up the paper, putting it under your arm. You set your bag down at your desk and headed to the kitchen. Pulling out your notepad, you flipped to the page where you wrote down instructions on how to make Alastor's coffee the way he liked it. Hopefully, he wasn't the type to throw it at you if it wasn't right. Velevette threw her coffee at you once, burning your arm. You were ready to make some new memories that didn't involve the trauma endured by the V's.

Coffee, cloth napkins, and paper were placed on a tray. You contemplated folding the napkin like a swan but decided against it. It was a silly thought, and you didn't want to come off as trying too hard, even though that was what he set you up for, to try hard and fail. You tapped your nails against the tray as the elevator ascended up to Alastor's room. It was 6:58 AM. You stood outside his door watching the clock. Only at 7 AM, on the dot, did you set the tray down in front of his door. Alastor was sitting in his chair reading, ready to scold you for being early and found himself slightly impressed. Getting rid of you the typical way might be harder than he thought. All the others were so easy to frighten. But if there was anything Alastor loved, it was a challenge. He had been bored out of his mind playing this hotel game. Unable to leave and pursue more interesting ventures. And the rest of the core group of hotel residents were getting annoyed with his antics. Maybe you could entertain him for a little while. Surely there had to be something that would break you. He waited for the elevator to descend before retrieving the tray.

You snuck into the kitchen to make yourself some coffee, before anyone came in to make breakfast. You made yourself at home at your desk. The drawers were a mess from the previous employees. You sipped your coffee and organized your papers. Looking over previous orders for supplies and food, trying to get an idea of how much the hotel goes through monthly.

"Why good morning!" Alastor said, suddenly at your side, bent over, his face a bit too close to yours. You tried your best not to jump, you had a feeling that would be happening often. "At your desk already? Don't you want to join your new comrades at the breakfast table? Hmm?"

"Good morning to you too sir. No, not today. Until I have a full understanding of my schedule, I don't want to add anything unnecessary to my plate."

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, as they say."

"I'm pretty sure that's a con cereal companies used to sell sugar to children." Alastor held in a laugh. "Coffee is fine for now. Speaking of-" You looked up at him. "How was your coffee this morning? Did I make it correctly?"

"It was passable I suppose." It was the best he could do without lying and without giving you praise. "There are some errands I need to be done." He handed you a list. Skimming over it, it seemed doable to get done by the end of the day. "I want it done by noon."

"...noon?!" It was already 9 AM, here it was, an impossible task. Setting you up to fail. Maybe you could use some of your third-party contacts from VoxTek? "Alright.. I'll see what I-"

You were both suddenly interrupted by the boisterous sounds coming from the dining room. Leaning forward over your desk, you could see Charlie was singing.

"Hmm. Glad I skipped breakfast...." you said flatly. You didn't see it but Alastor smirked.

The tasks given proved to be a bit difficult. All things Alastor could have easily done himself, but where was the fun in that? You did take advantage of some of your previous contacts, which helped immensely. You took care of a few calls before heading to the city. Most of the errands were pick-ups and drop-offs. One task, in particular, you'd have to call in a favor for. Meanwhile, Alastor was eavesdropping, hoping to see you struggle and stress.

"Frankie, listen, if this order isn't here by noon, I will personally come down there, pull your intestines out your asshole, and festoon them along the fence of this establishment. Do you understand?" Frankie babbled in your ear. "Great, I'm so glad we could come to an agreement. As always, a pleasure to work with you."

Alastor couldn't help but have a genuine smile on his face, he wouldn't admit it, but he liked how you got things done. Threatening someone in such a creative way delighted him.

You hoofed it around the city for hours, practically running from destination to destination. You were exhausted and sweaty when you arrived back at the hotel. It was a few minutes before noon, just in time to see Frankie's delivery truck be unloaded.

"In the kitchen, please. Thanks, fellas!" You yelled to them.

Your arms were full as you dumped everything on your desk. Gently folding Alastor's dry cleaning over your chair, stacking some of the items. Including a few books. How does this help the hotel? You thought. Hoping these kinds of tasks would end once Alastor was bored with you.

"Well- color me impressed. All with five minutes to spare!" Alastor appeared in front of your desk. "Though it does seem like something is missing. That's too bad. I had such high hopes for you, dear."

You gave him the biggest shit-eating grin you could muster and pointed at the two men coming through the door hauling a freshly slaughtered deer to the kitchen. If you weren't already intensely looking at him you would have missed Alastor's eye twitch. Someone might as well handed you a trophy. It took everything in you to not showboat as you followed the delivery men into the kitchen.

The deer was laid on the large island in the middle of the kitchen. You signed their papers and the men were gone. Alastor, suddenly in an apron, was ready to go. A black tentacle sliced its head off with a sharp crack.

"Hold this."

He handed you the head. You held it by the antlers, dripping blood onto the floor by your feet. You stood there for a while, watching Alastor prepare. Realizing that he didn't need your help, this was just another task to pain you. The head was heavy and your arms were getting tired. As you adjusted, trying to give your arms a break, you felt the antlers texture in your hands, it reminded you of a gaudy hotel in Montana your parents took you to in the summer of '92.

"If you do this often, which I get the feeling you do- you could save the antlers and make a chandelier. It would look good by the bar."

"Hmmm." Alastor glanced at you as he removed the skin. It wasn't a bad idea, however, he could just make one just like he made the bar itself. But an opportunity was found. "Very well then." He snapped his fingers and the head fell off the antlers. Landing on your feet with a splat. Filling your shoes with coagulating blood.

You groaned. What the fuck, were these shoes cursed? Blood squished between your toes. The sensory overload made you want to scream. You swallowed it down. Instead, letting out a loud sigh. You sat the antlers down on the counter and picked up the head. Alastor couldn't help but to cackle.

"So glad you are amused." You said flatly.

"Oh indeed I am."

In truth, he was. But also disappointed. He didn't get so much as a yelp out of you. A measly groan? He was losing his touch. But the clear discomfort the drying blood in your shoes provided would have to be enough. At this point, the head you clutched to your chest was dripping down your front. You greatly regretted wearing a skirt today. Alastor watched the blood drip down your legs from the corner of his eye. Pooling further in your shoes.

You stood there for what felt like ages. How long did it take to gut a deer? He couldn't be using the whole thing, could he? What was he even making? You got tired of standing and hopped on the counter, hugging the head now in your lap. You were already covered in blood, it didn’t really matter now that the base of the severed head was soaking into your lap. Thankful your skirt was at least black. Alastor would have to try harder than this to drive you out. He’d previously been relying too heavily on his reputation and the fear people felt from his presence. He would have to get more creative with you, how fun.

"Hiiiiiii guuuuuuuys!" Charlie popped her head into the kitchen, breaking your concentration. "There is a short group activity we are about to do! Would you like to join us? " She glances at you, then at the glob of sticky at your feet. "Mayyyybeee we could get you some slippers...? Alastor?"

"You may go." You’d rather hold the deer, but you weren’t about to let him know that.

You dropped the head in the sink with a thud and a squelch. Alastor smirked, enjoying the squishing sound your shoes made as you walked away. You were grateful to have clean feet and warm slippers. But the short group activity wasn't short at all. It had been several hours at this point and the deer head didn't seem so bad now. You sat slumped in a chair, waiting for your turn to share your “feelings”. Charlie had sung two songs now, she was a lovely person but this activity was making you want to claw your eyes out. You sat up straight when you saw the kitchen door open, pretending to be engaged in the activity. God forbid Alastor to catch on that this was torment for you, he’d end up signing you up for every activity Charlie came up with.

The rest of the day was filled with busy work. By the time 5 PM rolled around you were exhausted. You grabbed your jacket and purse, heading out the front door. By the time you got home, you felt like you were going to collapse. Just get through this week, you thought, things will level out after that. You trudged up the four flights of stairs and as you approached your apartment you noticed a note on your door. EVICTION NOTICE in bold print. You ripped it off the door and crumpled it in your hand.

Great.

#hazbin fanfic #Darby Oakana #hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n

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litgarchive · 2 months ago

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Transparency Report - April 2025

After checking the current files and notes, this is what I have:

Day 6 to 13 mostly based on one route (mostly Harry's), with some routes included

Day 5 Parts 1 to 3 divided into scenes

Day 5 Part 2 fill-up ongoing

My workflow is:

Getting the base script into its proper individual files based on Day and Episode (e.g. Day 5 Part 1, Part 2, Part 3);

Dividing each Episode into scenes and sub-scenes;

Filling in choices;

Adding in Ink to make it interactive;

Testing; and

Wrapping it all up in Atrament to make it playable.

Day 5 should be dropping next month, barring any major incidents IRL.

💕 Pine

#litg archive status #litg archive #litg s3 #litg

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animatorweirdo · 1 year ago

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Why Elves Should Not Drink Coffee

(Not gonna explain myself. This was just an idea that popped into my head. I hope you enjoy it. )

Warnings: Coffee Madness.

---------------------------------

*You and Elrond spending some time together*

Elrond: (Name), what are you drinking? I do not think I have seen that kind of drink before.

You: Oh, It’s just coffee. It helps keep me awake in the morning.

Elrond: It helps you keep awake. That sounds like something that could help many improve workflow and avoid falling asleep during important times.

You: Yeah… hold back on that statement.

Elrond: ???

You: You see… it was me and my friend who first introduced coffee, and it proved to be more trouble than good because of its potent effect on elves.

Elrond: What do you mean?

You: Coffee is pretty harmless to humans since it only causes anxiety, tiredness, addiction, and something in between. To elves… it causes them to be extremely hyperactive.

You: During the first three days, there were already four incidents.

1 Incident

You: *Groans* I hate Mondays!

Camilla: Oh, stop whining.

Faye: Hey, you two. What are you drinking?

You: Coffee because I hate my life. Wants some?

Faye: Sure.

Faye: *Drinks a whole cup*

Faye: *Smacks her lips* An interesting taste. Well, I need to get back to work. I see you two later.

You: *Watches her leave* Camilla, coffee is safe for elves, right?

Camilla: Should be. Why?

You: I don’t know. I just feel like we made a grave mistake.

You: *Shrugging your shoulders* Oh, whatever.

*Later that day*

*You and Camilla arrive at the healer’s wing*

You: And then he was like: I’m not a little boy. I’m an alpha male, and I will — Oh my god! What happened here?!

*You two witness the main infirmary in a mess. Sheets on the floors. Patients aggressively tied with bandages, and everyone staring at Faye with pure terror*

You: Faye…Everything alright buddy?

Faye: *Visibly shaking like she was on overdrive, smiling and speaking fast* I’m fine! I never felt better! I’m quite active today! We should get to work! There are patients and medicines to be sorted. Oh, what a wonderful day! Sun emoji, smiling face, and a rose.

Faye: *Walks off*

You: Did she just mention a sun emoji?

Camilla: I think that’s our cue not to give her coffee in the future.

2 Incident

Maglor: I heard about the incident in the healer’s wing. I hope your friend is okay.

You: Yeah, Faye is alright. It was a pain in the ass to wait for her to tire herself, but we managed to get her down and rest.

You: To think coffee had such a strong effect on her.

Maglor: Well, accidents happen.

You: *Remember something* Wait! I remember serving you once coffee. Did you end up giving your brother some by chance?

Maglor: You did, but I did not feel any different. I gave some coffee to Maedhros since he seemed to have trouble focusing on his work, but now that you mention it. I haven’t seen him in a while.

You: How long has this ‘while’ been?

Maglor: Around… three weeks?

*You two stare at each other in silence*

You & Maglor: Oh Shit!

*You two quickly arrive at the study where Maglor last saw Maedhros*

Maglor: *Opening the door* Maedhros! We’re coming in!

*You two find him in a messed up study. Thousands of papers were stacked, and the red-haired elf was still sitting on the table, his hair messed up and dark circles under his eyes, and his left hand black with ink.*

Maedhros: *Falling front and back on the chair* What do you two want? Can’t you see I’m busy?

You: Doing what? You’re just scribbling on the desk at this point.

Maglor: Brother?! Have you not moved an inch since the last I saw you?!

Maedhros: What are you talking about?

Maglor: It’s been three weeks!

Maedhros: *stops in thought* Three weeks?

Maedhros: It doesn’t matter. I have work to do.

Maglor: *Grabs the back of his chair and pulls him away from the desk* Oh no, you don’t! You’re going to sleep!

Maedhros: *Starting hissing at him*

You: I need to tell Camilla to avoid sharing her coffee recipe.

3 Incident

*After getting Maedhros to rest*

You: Okay. That was awful. I can’t believe this brown juice could make your brother last that long without sleep and food.

Maglor: It seems coffee is more potent toward us than we imagined.

Curufin: *Appears out of nowhere* What is more potent toward us?

You: My friend’s coffee recipe. It’s only supposed to serve as a morning drink, but turns out, you elves turn ten times more active if you drink this.

Curufin: *Stares at the cup of coffee, thinking* Hmm…?

Curufin: *Grabs it and takes a drink*

You & Maglor: No!

Curufin: *Stares at you two confused*

Maglor: Brother— how are you feeling?

Curufin: I— feel fine?

You: You sure? No sudden urges to do something or test your limits to unimaginable expectations?

Curufin: I think you both are overreacting. I do say that this is a fine-tasting drink. My compliments to your friend.

Curufin: *Leaves*

You: Someone who compliments Camilla’s coffee must have a soul just as dark as hers or none at all. By the way, did you notice any changes in him?

Maglor: I— can’t actually say. Let’s keep an eye on him, just in case. Who knows what might happen if he turns out like Faye or Maedhros?

You: I’m already scared just thinking about it.

*Later*

Curufin: *Standing on the table, messed up hair, and yelling invention plans* Don’t you see?! This is our chance to defeat Morgoth! We just build this here and there! Then we just—!

Celegorm: *Visibly scared* Holy shit! Calm down! What has gotten into you?!

*You, Maglor, and all the nearby elves hiding in the vicinity*

You: Oh my god! Can your brother be more insufferable than this?!

Maglor: This feels like typical Curufin, but ten times more confident his plan will work in the end and if he was ten times angrier than Caranthir.

You: Well, no shit. He’s literally yelling at us like a German soldier in the Second World War and even Celegorm out of all people is scared!

Curufin: TOD ALLEN ORKS!!!

Celegorm: *Crying at this point* What are you even saying?!

Present day

You: After that incident, Curufin was banned from even getting near coffee, and what’s even more ironic was that when he finally cleared his head from the caffeine rush. He blamed me and Maglor for embarrassing himself even if it was he who drank the coffee and ignored our warnings.

You: After that, Camilla and I made sure that coffee was banned for the greater good.

Elrond: Sounds reasonable. But those were only three incidents. You told me there were four.

You: Oh yeah! Actually, that happened way after. I’m not sure if you remember, but you and your brother had a part in this one.

4 Incident

*You, Maglor, and the twins having breakfast*

Elrond: *Points at the pot of coffee* Ada, can I have a taste of that?

Maglor: *Slightly sleep-deprived and not fully comprehending the question* sure.

Maglor: *About to pour him a cup of coffee*

You: *You slap his hand away in panic* Don’t give him that! You know what coffee does to you! They’re gonna be jumping off the walls!

Maglor: Calm down. I’m sure it doesn’t have that strong effect on children.

You: You sure about that? A sugar rush is something, but do you really want to know what a coffee-filled elven child can do?

*You two then see Elros having a taste and Elrond drinking from the pot*

You: Boys!

*The twins look at you without an expression.*

You: How… are you feeling?

*Later*

Elrond & Elros: *Laughing maniacally, running and jumping on the walls*

You & Maglor: *Chasing after them*

You: I bloody told you so!

Present day

Elrond: Oh dear! I do not wonder why I can’t remember much of that day.

You: Well, you and your brother were knocked out on the bed after a full day of running and hiding. Let's just say. Maedhros did not enjoy having to avoid jumping children on caffeine energy drinks.

Elrond: *Chuckles as you two arrive in the kitchen*

You: You know, now that I think about it. The coffee was made from my friend’s recipe at that time. She always liked to drink it strong, so maybe if I tone it down a bit. It could be less potent toward elves.

You: *Stops* Oh no!

Elrond: What’s wrong?

You & Elrond: * See your coffee pot empty*

You: Where did all of my coffee go?

*You both hear a crash in the distance and someone screaming*

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #tolkien #silmarillion imagines #middle earth imagines #silm fic #middle earth x reader #crack fic #maglor x reader

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blubberquark · 1 year ago

Text

Looking for Group

Somebody posted on Discord

Does anybody want to collaborate on a [game] project?

but nobody answered.

Nobody said yes. Nobody said no. Nobody even asked follow-up questions. And yet, people in that server really do want to collaborate on games and projects. What happened?

Obviously nothing happened because the asker did not specify anything. What kind of project? With who? For how long? What should I bring to the table if we collaborate? I don't know. I was busy anyway. Maybe I can set up the asker with other people, who weren't busy. But this is not an isolated incident. Every day, thousands of people ask in chat rooms, forums, and mailing lists "Does anybody want to collaborate?"

Answering with yes is a risky move. Imagine being on the other side, and somebody asks an open-ended question... Imagine being on the other side of "I am having a software problem, can anybody DM me?"

Nobody wants to be on the hook to be somebody's personal tech support without at least knowing the kind of problem, and nobody wants to commit, even tentatively, to a creative project. It's kind of a red flag. What can you do to allow others to message you, to just tentatively get you to agree, to just agree to ask you for more details of your project? What should you do so people who say yes don't feel like they are wasting their own time, and yours?

1. Scope

The most important thing to communicate is scope. It's less important what kind of creative project it is, but how big. Is it an ongoing side project? A weekend? A couple of hours a week for a couple of months?

There is a world of difference between "Does anybody want to collaborate on a weekend project?" and "Does anybody want to collaborate on an epic story with 20 characters, multiple storylines, lore, 50 hours of side quests, and 800 pieces of unique loot?"

2. Stakes and Commitments

The next most important thing is commitments. This is doubly important if you are working with friends. Sometimes you want to collaborate on Ludum Dare, and if your partner is busy on that weekend, you'd rather know now. Sometimes you want to submit a demo of your game to some kind of competition or showcase, and it has to be ready at a certain point.

Sometimes you are really putting your heart and souls into a project, and your friend is just in it "for fun" and thinks you are ruining his fun by taking the project seriously. Your "One Story You Had Inside Yourself" can be your friend's "Learn C++ in 21 Days". Your "ticket into the glamorous games industry" can be your friend's "goof off with blender for a couple of hours and then try a different hobby".

It's important to talk out stakes and commitments with your friends, because you might be able to rope in a friend into a project without doing this. You could rope a friend into your project and he starts resenting you a bit because you are gung-ho about art, and your friend just wants to spend time with you, and you are exacting and controlling and ask him to revise the dialogue/animations/3D models he contributed.

If you are talking to strangers, you can't rope them in. They just won't agree to work with you without details.

3. Skills

If you are asking for collaborators in a programming discord, chances are you will get replies from other programmers. Chances are, wherever you ask, your post will be seen by many people who are good at the things you yourself are already good at. Are you a programmer looking for programmers, or a programmer looking for level designers and artists?

There are many reasons for three programmers or three pixel artists to work together, but by and large, you need people who complement your skill set, but fit into your work flow. If you are working with Unity3D, you probably want to work with 3D artists who have rudimentary knowledge of git and C#, even if they aren't supposed to code, and you need rudimentary knowledge of their modelling software and workflows.

So when looking for people to work with, you need to tell them what you can do, what you can't do, what you want them to do, and how you want to work together.

4. Topic/Idea/Design/Genre

This is point #4. This is deliberate.

You could probably take the previous 3 points and cobble together a "looking for group" post. People rarely do that. They usually have an idea they want to realise. Ideas are a dime a dozen though, and you can still pivot later, after you have found your group members.

It can't hurt to include this. What kind of project do you have in mind?

5. Management and Art Direction

There is one more big thing to consider: If you already have a project in mind, you are taking control of the project. You are the boss, you decide that you are looking for four people to collaborate on a science-based dragon breeding MMORPG, any four people who sign up know what they are getting into. It makes sense that the topic is not open for discussion. It also makes sense that you are the project manager, because you made a list of skills and work that needs to be done, and you have worked all this out already.

We are looping back to point #2 here. Why should people commit to your project if you are holding the reins? What do they get out of it?

You should communicate as early as possible what the creative freedoms are, what kind of tone you want to pursue, and how free your fellow artists are to express themselves.

In a commercial project, you can have control because you pay people. If you are doing a game jam project, or just any unpaid hobby collaboration, you should consider giving the others some creative freedom.

In a game jam, you could just decide that somebody else gets the creative control when you pivot to a different idea. In a large, commercial project, it makes sense to delineate how much creative freedom an individual artist has. In an open-source project, the maintainer can just review a patch and decide not to use it.

Ideally, you should communicate early on how weird or wacky you want the result to be, whether you want something with broad commercial appeal, with a sombre and serious tone, or if anything goes. That would be a bit much for the initial post, so just give a hint whether this would be a good project for somebody who really wants to put pigs and frogs in every game, or a good project who wants to make a character based on her ex boyfriend that the player can shoot in the groin. Sometimes people have the most specific ideas...

If on the other hand you have no idea what kind of creative direction you want to go, maybe you shouldn't go this route at all. If you want to give creative control to a yet to be determined team member, why not join another team instead? If you don't know where the project is going, you can't really plan who and what skills you need anyway.

Examples:

A good request for a collaoration reads a bit like a dating profile or a job ad. It covers the five points mentioned above.

Hey, I am Robert, art director and senior gameplay programmer at Blubberquark Software. I am fluent (among other languages) in Python, C#, Lua, and Haxe. I would like to join a team working with Unity3D, libGDX, löve or Flixel for the upcoming Ludum Dare game jam, in the Hamburg area. I like to use Blender, Gimp, Wings3D, ASEPrite, TrenchBroom, LDtk, Tiled, Ogmo, or Crocotile 3D. I also learned some 3DS Max and Cinema4D in university, but I don't have a license for those.

Here's a fictionalised version of myself, looking for a game jam team. To be clear, I am not looking for a team, but if I was, I'd make sure I don't need to learn a new set of tools for a weekend game jam. I'd try to make sure we all know how to use the engine, and we all know how to use the same source control, and we can all build and run a project before the jam starts. I wouldn't want to do a Ludum Dare remotely, so all this goes in there.

Since this is about Ludum Dare, scope and stakes are clear, and the skills I would use are in there. Skills that are irrelevant to Ludum Dare are not mentioned. Topic and creative control will depend on the jam theme, which is TBD.

Hello, we are Jim (programming) and Julius (level design, turn-based games expert). We are working on a fantasy JRPG called "animecha generica" that we hope to sell on Steam. We already have a gameplay prototype with placeholder characters and pixel art, but we would like to work with a skilled artist to create more interesting character designs and expressive/emotive portraits for the conversation system. If you join us, you would create characters, character portraits, quest lines, and dialogue, and we would split the revenue thee ways. We are also looking for a musician (work for hire basis).

This sounds like an early-stage commercial project. There is an engine and a prototype, but the design seems to depend on the content, and the developers are looking for somebody who can contribute the content. The scope sounds rather large (probably at least 5 hours of gameplay, maybe more) and the time commitment would be full-time until release. The artist they are looking for would do a little bit of everything, from art direction and narrative design down to art assets, and there would probably be a lot of overlap between the roles of two developers and the artist. Everybody wears multiple hats.

This sounds really risky, and the success of the project would depend on none of the three developers screwing it up.

Hi, I am Takeshi Kovacs, and I am making a new game engine based on Vulkan rendering, with its on scripting language, but optionally scripted in Python or C#. If this sounds interesting to you, I would like to work with you on a small game project of your choice, and help you realise your game design to test the viability of my Vladimir-and-Estragon Engine. Pick any weekend game jam of your choice. Pacific Time Zone only.

This seems low-pressure, and of limited scope. It could be a good after hours project, but it's probably not necessarily a good fit for a beginning programmer. You'd learn a new and unproven engine and scripting language. Apart from wasted time, it can't hurt that much to try. If you are a beginner, you could try to implement Pong or Tetris with Takeshi's help.

If you take up this offer, you would enjoy significant creative control, but the main objective would not be to produce a game for people to enjoy, but example code, or a game mechanics as a proof of concept for the engine.

We are making an open source shmup written in libGDX. We are always looking for new contributors. We have 100 stars on GitHub, and 50 players, according to our analytics. For the next release, we would like to add new levels, new power-ups, more ships, more content. Play our game [here] or build it from source by [following] [these] [instructions] [(Outdated Wiki Page For Ubuntu 20.04)]. If you have experience with Steam Workshop, talk to us on [our Discord].

This project has a medium scope, semi-mature code base, and low time commitment. You could probably contribute some content, or a patch to the engine, and nobody would really rely in you to stick around. On the other hand, you have little influence on the overall game design. You could certainly try: You could make a pull request that completely re-vamps the gameplay, but at that point, you might as well start a hostile fork.

We at secret studio are making otome dating simulator. Want to have demo ready for PAX Moonbase. We are looking for multiple character artists who can draw our characters on-model on a work-for-hire basis, and two additional writers for our writing team. We are looking for candidates who have experience with authoring systems like twine, ink, Ren'Py, Visual Novel Maker, or RPG Maker. Experience with YarnSpinner is a plus, but not required. You have the opportunity to design your own otome love interests and story lines. You will be expected to work under our creative director.

Like the JRPG example above, this is a commercial project with a large scope and fixed design, but these people are looking to hire more people who wear fewer hats each to create content quickly. This looks like a job ad for a paid position. It should be! You would have some creative freedom, but since this is a commercial project, you will have to stick with the marketing demographics and write romance storylines for girls who like boys, and any ideas you want to convey have to fit into that framework. It looks like they are using YarnSpinner and an undisclosed game engine, and they are willing to teach you how to use their tools on the job, but they seems to expect a writing background, and some prior experience in the tools/workflow/production side of visual novels specifically.

Hi. My name is Jeff. I work in theatre and I produce radio plays. I have podcasting and sound recording equipment at work. I play the guitar, badly, and I can borrow an old Moog synthesiser. I want to collaborate on a game project, by producing foley sound effects, or recording short stings and jingles. I know some QBasic from back in the day, but I haven't programmed much since then. I have licenses for Ableton, Photoshop, and Autodesk Maya.

Jeff is looking for a group. Jeff is not looking for a big commitment. He is willing to help a project out. Jeff has listed some skills and things he could contribute to a project. He is not looking for a new full-time job, but maybe a paid side gig.

Hi. I am Raven Siege Tank Banshee Medivac, a sophomore student majoring in computer science and underwater basket weaving at New England University, Arkham. I can use Blender, Photoshop, and and Logic Pro. I would like to help out with an open-source game project. I would also consider doing a puzzle platformer together. I know some PyGame.

There is almost but not quite enough to go on in this one. In what capacity would Raven work in a collaboration? What kind of scope is right, here? Maybe Raven would like to work on that shmup written in Java, but as far as the puzzle platformer is concerned, we don't know why Raven can't just make it solo with PyGame and Photoshop.

TL;DR

If you want to find people to work together with, you must communicate scope, commitments, and skills you need and skills you bring to the table. Explaining what kind of idea you want realised is also important, as is creative direction, but not as important as the first three. Your post should look like a job ad. Read your post and think if you would join that project or ask that person to join yours.

#game development #project management #indie dev #game jams

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